


stranger creatures

by thebrobecks



Series: Glowing Eyes [5]
Category: Fall Out Boy, Panic! at the Disco, Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Angst, Anxiety, Fluff, M/M, Mind Control, Minor Character Death, Panic Attacks, Shapeshifting, Supernatural Elements, Telekinesis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-30
Updated: 2017-03-04
Packaged: 2018-05-10 12:31:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5585446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebrobecks/pseuds/thebrobecks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Josh could have sworn he saw two red eyes glowing from the darkness, but it may have just been his imagination.<br/>note: if you have come here after seeing night's decor, PLEASE don't read this one. this is full of my shitty writing from january 2016 (at the earliest). i will update this with my good writing soon. only read night's decor. thank you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Josh 

The door slammed shut behind Josh as he stepped out onto the balcony. The cold wind stung his hands and cheeks as he crept over to the edge. He looked around to make sure nobody suspicious was watching, but the only creature in the area was him. Satisfied, he lifted himself onto the railing and jumped.

Josh let himself free fall for a brief moment, enjoying the feeling of the wind streaking past him. Within the next second, though, he had shifted into one of his most discreet forms; a raven. He spread his wings wide and soared above the trees for a couple minutes. Josh watched and listened like a hawk for any signs of trouble.

The forest was dark and silent. Josh tucked his wings in closer, swooping down below the treetops. The silence was downright eerie; almost as if all the wildlife in the area were holding their breath. Waiting for something, or, perhaps, hiding from something. At that thought, all of Josh's senses went on high alert. If something was powerful enough to make all the animals in the forest go into hiding, then he needed to be aware of everything. He flew a bit higher, so that, if he had to, he could flee without worrying about running into a tree.

But then Josh was falling. His wings weren't working; some unknown force had pinned them close to his body. Panicking, he shifted back into a human, but he was still falling and he still couldn't move. The ground was only getting closer. Josh squeezed his eyes shut and braced himself for impact—but the impact never came. His eyes shot open and he found himself levitating a couple inches above the grass.

"Joshua!" An inhuman voice rang out from the shadows, startling Josh half to death. "What a pleasant surprise! I thought you would never come."

Whatever was holding Josh let him go, and he smacked nose-first into the grass. Not wasting a second to rub his aching nose, he shot to his feet and pulled his gun out.

"Who are you?" Josh questioned, his voice firm. "Come out where I can see you. I have a gun and I'm not afraid to use it," he threatened, glaring into the shadows with hard, stony eyes.

A tall, rather lumpy humanoid stepped out from behind a tree. It wore a massive, black robe with the hood pulled over its head. "Put down your weapon. I come in peace," the figure croaked. Josh tensed, his index finger poised over the trigger of the pistol , ready to squeeze. That thing definitely was not human.

"That's what something that doesn't come in peace would say," Josh snapped back. "Now tell me who you are and what you want so I can arrest you sooner."

The creature burst into raucous laughter. It sent shivers down Josh's spine, a sound he would never forget. The laugh began deep in the creature's chest. It traveled upward to emerge in a bone-chilling mixture of a snarl and a hiss. Josh shuddered slightly, and repeated his question with more force.

"Who the fuck are you and what do you want with me?"

"They call me King Cobra. Seems fitting, don't you think? But you, dear Joshua... _you_ can call me the King," the creature announced, the last of its unsettling laughter dying out.

Josh swallowed. This didn't sound good. This didn't sound good at _all_.

"You see, Joshua, a king such as myself has his kingdom. And to keep his kingdom safe and his, a king needs an army. Only the strongest, _bravest_ soldiers can be in the king's army, so that nobody dares to ever oppose the mighty king. Yet, that can be...rather complicated. And I believe that you, Joshua, would be the perfect commander for my army. They need somebody capable, strong, _intelligent_. And, of course, you fit the bill as if I had created you with my own two hands. So, Joshua, what do you say?" The King spoke with an accent that Josh couldn't place.

Josh hesitated, processing what the robed figure—the King—had just offered to him.

" _No_ ," Josh refused firmly, placing his finger on the trigger of the gun.

The King snickered. "Hm. I knew that you would be stubborn. But, Joshua, this is not a yes or no question. You will join me no matter what. I am giving you two options. One; you can surrender and come with me now. Two; I give you one month to decide whether you will join me. But, you certainly will not let your little group of friends know of this. I know exactly where you currently reside. I know each your daily schedules. If you let them in on our arrangement, I promise that you will come to regret it. And, remember this, Joshua. It will be completely painless if you come of your own free will." With that chilling proclamation, the King disappeared back into the shadows.

Josh could have sworn he saw two red eyes glowing from the darkness, but it may have just been his imagination. When Josh knew the figure was gone, he clicked the safety on his gun and tucked it back into its holster. He blew out a shaky breath he hadn't known he was holding, and leaned back against a tree. He didn't trust his trembling legs to hold him up.

 _I'm_ _screwed_ , he thought, rubbing a hand over his face. How the _fuck_ was he supposed to keep this from the group? He couldn't handle them getting killed on his behalf. No, that would without a doubt drive him even closer to his breaking point than he already was. But he also couldn't just let the King take him. Josh had a feeling that the King's army would, in time, meet with the group in battle. If Josh let himself get captured, he would have to fight his own friends and face the possibility of killing them. Josh shuddered at the thought.

He gave himself a couple more minutes to regain his composure. Josh shifted back into a raven and took off, his soft black wings carrying him above the canopy. He didn't feel like finishing his security rounds tonight; he was almost done anyway. The property was not that large. He sighed when he saw the group's massive house. He hoped that everyone had gone to sleep, or at least to their respective rooms.

Josh pulled his wings in closer, making a steady descent to the balcony and shifting back into a human. He entered quietly, wondering how to keep his secret without being suspicious. It wouldn't be easy; that was a no-brainer. The entire group was wary of new people. Even though they were warming up to Josh, they still watched him when they thought he wasn't looking. Hell, Josh had caught Dallon sneaking around him just the other day. The taller man had, of course, denied it completely. Pete also didn't completely trust him, but he was far more subtle.

Josh ambled towards his room, wondering if he should get a quick drink from the bar. He wasn't much of a drinker, but getting a little drunk seemed like a good idea, given his current situation. He decided to just do it; why the hell not?

He grabbed a bottle from the shelves, not bothering to look at what it was. Josh poured a glass, watching absently as the cup filled with a pinkish-brown liquid. He placed the bottle back in its place and took a swig.

Josh almost dropped the glass, wincing as he swallowed the liquid. Whatever this shit was, it was _strong_. What the hell was Pete buying? Josh wasn't complaining though; this would clear his mind and let him sleep. He trudged to his room, taking small sips of the drink as he went.

For a moment, Josh considered banging his anxiety out on his drums, but decided against it. It was late, and the rooms weren't exactly soundproof. Instead, he slipped a pair of sweatpants on and flopped onto his bed. He already knew that he wouldn't sleep well, if at all.


	2. Chapter 2

**Josh**

Josh was grateful for his ability to procrastinate. Somehow, he had succeeded in avoiding everyone and everything related to the King. Including his friends. Of course, Josh had also stayed in his room for three days straight, but nobody can win at everything.

He was also grateful that the group understood his anxiety. They knew that sometimes, all Josh needed was to be alone. But there was a limit to how long they would leave Josh alone before they forced him out. That limit was five days, and they promised to check on him a day or two before that limit to make sure he was still breathing. So far, in the five months Josh had spent with the group, he had only reached that limit once. It was after Josh had—in his perspective—failed. Josh blew out a defeated sigh as the memories he had repressed for so long surfaced in his mind.

_Josh flew through the woods, searching for trouble. The only sounds were the rustling of leaves and the soft beating of his wings. Instead of a raven, Josh was a blue jay. Now, because of the memories that came with it, Josh could no longer stand to be a blue jay._

_As he advanced through the trees, he heard the telltale clicks of a bullet loading into the barrel of a gun. Josh quickened his pace, trying to locate the source of the sound. As he neared the source, he could hear two voices. One was a pleading whimper, the other rough, deep, and demanding._

_He almost flew right over the struggling duo. They were underneath the branches of a tree, and both were clad in all black. A large, bulky man was pinning a much smaller one to the trunk, and holding him at gunpoint._

_"Hand it the fuck over already, pussy!" the larger man snarled, gripping the other's shirt tighter._

_Josh landed under a nearby tree, shifting back into a human and staying hidden. He readied his gun with silence, watching the two as he did so. Josh noticed that the smaller man was young—he couldn't be a day over eighteen. He hurried in loading his gun; no matter why this kid was in trouble, Josh wouldn't let him die._

_"Drop your weapon." Josh emerged from the shadows, his face stony and eyes blank._

_"Make me," the larger man snapped, jerking his arm around to point his pistol at Josh's head._

_Josh clicked his gun's safety off and brought his arm up in one stiff, smooth motion._

_"Drop. Your. Weapon." Josh positioned his index finger so that it rested on the trigger._

_The teenager had a sudden realization that the man was only holding him with one hand. He yanked his arms up and wrapped them tight around the larger man's thick neck. The boy squeezed as hard as he could, the man's eyes bulging in surprise. His knees buckled as the teenager cut off his air supply, and it seemed like the boy was winning._

_In the next second, though, the man had whipped his shooting arm around and pressed the gun to the boy's head. Frightened, the boy's trembling arms dropped back to his sides._

_"Get the fuck out," the man hissed, "or I'll shoot."_

_The boy turned his pleading, desperate eyes to Josh. Terror-driven tears trickled helplessly down his cheeks. Josh didn't know what to do._

_He couldn't shoot. That was his only flaw. He only had the gun as a means of self defense, and he would only use it in the worst-case scenario. He couldn't kill another human being, no matter how much that person deserved it. He also couldn't retreat, because then he wouldn't be doing his job and he would be letting the boy down._

_"Now!" The man jabbed his pistol harder into the boy's forehead, causing him to let out a pained cry._

_Josh swallowed, his arm beginning to tremble. If he didn't do something now, it would be too late._

_He gulped and launched himself at the man, shoving his gun into its holster. He tackled the man, both of them tumbling onto the gravel. Josh made to grasp the man's arms, but he found himself paralyzed. No matter how much effort he put into it, nothing but his eyes would budge. The man seemed to have powers. Josh was stupid—one of the first things Pete told him was to expect that his enemies had powers._

_The man snickered, slithering out from under Josh. "Can't get me now, hm?"_

_Josh only glared in response. He tried to shift into something. Anything. But whatever this criminal had done to him had blocked his powers as well as his ability to move. The man leaned in close to Josh, close enough so that Josh could feel his hot breath on his neck. Josh's gun slid out of its holster, and the man held it up to taunt Josh._

_"Now, because you didn't listen to me... the boy suffers by your own weapon." The man chuckled again, aiming Josh's gun towards something behind him._

_Josh couldn't turn his head, but he prayed that the boy was smart enough to run. Josh wasn't religious, but he still prayed. His prayer seemed to be answered—Josh heard soft thuds behind him._

_It seemed to happen in slow motion. There was a gunshot in one moment, a shriek of agony in the next, and then a thud. Josh's entire body turned cold with shock and terror when he realized what had happened._

_The criminal laughed like the devil, throwing Josh's gun down next to him. Josh couldn't breathe. A boy had just_ died _and Josh didn't do anything. Damn it, why didn't he_ do _anything? He was responsible for the death of an innocent boy. Josh squeezed his eyes shut as hot tears forced their way out._

_"Crying? God, you're as much of a faggot as the boy," the man said, his voice mocking and sarcastic. "Hell, if I let you out you won't even try to hurt me, you're such a_ pussy _."_

_Then Josh could move again. The first thing he did was leap to his feet and deliver a sharp uppercut to the man's chin. Surprised, the man stumbled backwards. Josh rushed him and kneed him in the crotch before he began to retaliate. The man bent over, groaning in pain. Using the man's weakness to his advantage, Josh kicked him in the side of the head hard enough to knock him out._

_After making sure the man was out, Josh rushed over to the boy with unsteady legs. He sucked in a shaky, sharp breath as he saw the lake of blood surrounding the boy's body. With a trembling hand, Josh desperately felt for a pulse on the boy's neck. Much to his dismay, all he felt was wet, ruined flesh. He turned the boy over, his hands shaking even worse with dread. Josh's knees buckled when he saw the front of the boy's neck. It was a horrific mess of blood and skin._

_Josh was too late._

_He could only stare in horror. The boy had his entire life before him and now he couldn't live it. All because Josh was too_ stupid _to expect the man to have powers._

_Suddenly, Josh couldn't stand to be there another moment. He pulled himself off the ground, taking off in a clumsy sprint. He didn't know where he was going, he just needed to leave that place. He didn't care what happened to the man, he just needed to get out. Josh ran for what felt like hours. He ran until he couldn't feel his legs anymore. He ran until his vision was cloudy and he felt like he was going to drop dead. In that moment, Josh would be_ glad _to drop dead._

Josh pulled himself out of the flashback with a shaky breath. He wiped away a few tears that had fallen from his eyes and sighed. Dammit, there was a _reason_ he avoided that memory.

There was a knock on Josh's door. His head shot up.

"Come in," Josh said.

The door opened and Patrick walked in, eyeing Josh with concern. Patrick was always the one that checked on Josh; he was the 'mother figure' of the group. Patrick always knew if Josh wanted to talk about what was bothering him. Josh didn't know how; it wasn't like Patrick was an empath. Patrick was telekinetic.

"Movie night tonight," Patrick told him, sensing that Josh didn't feel like talking.

Each week, the group had a couple of nights where they would all stay in and relax together. They didn't always watch movies—sometimes they would have game nights. Sometimes, they had 'jam nights,' where everyone would just mess around on their instruments for a couple hours.

Josh nodded. A movie night would be good. No socialization was really required. Everybody was either dozing off, watching the movie, or eating.

"Pete's getting pizza. Pepperoni's good?"

"Yeah," Josh said, his voice crackling a little from lack of use.

Patrick pursed his lips and bobbed his head before turning his eyes on Josh again. "You've been taking your meds?"

"Yep." Josh lied. He hadn't been taking his meds. He had been too tired and didn't have the motivation to even get out of his bed. The only times he had left the room were to get some food and water. He didn't need to leave for the bathroom since there was one in his room. The perks of having a somewhat-rich friend.

Patrick gave him a doubtful look, but he took the answer anyway. He turned and left, giving Josh another look before he disappeared through the doorway.

Josh got up off his bed and walked over to the bottle of pills on the windowsill. He unscrewed the cap and grabbed a couple, swallowing them dry. He set the bottle down and walked over to the bathroom to take a shower.

———

Josh rubbed himself with a towel to dry off, and pulled on a random pair of pants and a sweatshirt. He squeezed the water out of his hair with the towel and left, not bothering to try and tame the frizzy, faded pink strands.

When he reached the living room, he saw that the rest of the group was already settled on the giant couch that Pete had bought. It looked more like a bed than a couch, and was big enough to hold five grown adults and their pizza boxes. With room to spare.

The group—Patrick, Pete, Dallon, and Brendon—had squished themselves into the corners of the couch. There was an empty spot in the middle, between Brendon and Patrick.

_They probably planned this_ , Josh thought. Brendon and Patrick were the most cuddly people he had met. Brendon was like a koala, and whenever he was tired, he would latch on to the warmest person he could find. Patrick wasn't the type to wrap around someone like Brendon was, but he was like a warm pillow.

Josh climbed onto the soft couch, his knees sinking into the material. He crawled over to the empty spot, and flipped over so that his back and his head were resting against the side of the couch. Staying true to his nature, Brendon turned over and wrapped his arms around Josh, resting his head on Josh's shoulder. Dallon looked down at his boyfriend, eyes sparkling with a hint of amusement. Though Dallon didn't fully trust Josh yet, Brendon did, and Dallon trusted Brendon.

"What're we watching?" Josh asked. The TV was on the home screen of Netflix.

At Josh's words, Pete picked up the remote and began flicking through movies. "Dunno yet," Pete replied.

Josh nodded and grabbed one of the pizza boxes, pulling out a slice of the cheesy heaven.

"Dal, pass the soda," Josh said, before biting into his pizza.

Dallon nodded and grabbed the bottle of Dr. Pepper from the side of the couch and passed it to Josh. He also passed him an empty—hopefully clean—Solo cup.

"Careful with the soda, don't get the couch dirty," Pete mumbled without looking over. He was still flicking through the selection of movies.

Josh rolled his eyes. The second something threatened to fall, Josh knew that Patrick would steady it. Even if that something was a liquid, Patrick's telekinesis allowed him to lift anything he wanted to.

Music played from the TV as Pete finally chose a movie to watch. Josh wasn't paying much attention. It looked like some sort of Disney movie. Of course Pete would choose a Disney movie. The dude was like a pit bull, and had the scariest powers Josh had ever seen, but on the inside he was a big softie.

Josh finished his pizza and set the cup of soda on the hard edge of the couch above his head. Normally, Josh would eat at least four slices of pizza, but tonight he just wasn't that hungry. He slouched even farther into the couch, careful to not disturb the somehow sleeping Brendon. The atmosphere was so relaxed, and Josh felt so warm and safe, that he was able to put the King's threats to the back of his mind.

As he began to doze off, he rested his head on Patrick's shoulder. Content, Josh slipped into a deep, restful sleep, where not even his greatest troubles could bother him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you wanted to know what the house generally looks like, here's a link: http://www.eplans.com/house-plans/epl/hwepl77203.html?from=search  
> also that fluff scene is basically how Glowing Eyes makes me feel


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> wow look an update from a shitty terrible person that doesnt know how to manage her time

**Josh**

He woke to the blinding sun piercing his eyelids and somebody making noise in the kitchen. Josh grumbled, rubbing his eyes and flipping over so that he was laying on his stomach. He tried to fall back asleep, but his efforts were futile.

Trying to keep from waking Pete and Patrick, Josh crawled off of the couch and made his way to the kitchen. Dallon was sitting at the island, chewing idly on what looked to be a Pop Tart. Brendon was sprawled across two chairs, snoring softly with his head in Dallon's lap.

Josh shuffled over to the fridge, opening the freezer and rummaging around for something to eat. He wasn't all that hungry, but he needed to eat something. After all, he had barely eaten during the three days he had locked himself away in his room. He pulled out a box of waffles and stuck two in the toaster.

While the waffles were toasting, Josh began to make a pot of coffee. He also hadn't had that while he was avoiding the group, and he was going through some serious withdrawal.

"You good, man?" Dallon said, making Josh jump a little.

Josh turned to face Dallon. The taller man was looking at Josh with his eyebrow raised.

"Yeah," Josh replied, nodding in an attempt to make it seem like he was telling the truth. In reality, Josh felt a dull bullet of anxiety strike through his body every time he thought about the King or the group, which was basically all the time. He wasn't too bad yet, but he knew that his anxiety would only get worse as time went on.

"Good, I'm tired as fuck," Brendon spoke up, his voice thick and gravelly with exhaustion.

"Yeah, two extra nights of patrol are really starting to take a toll on him," Dallon said, his voice gentle and almost a whisper.

Brendon and Josh were the two that took on most of the patrol duties. The others didn't do as much, but only because Brendon and Josh could get it done much faster. Josh, of course, could just fly through the forest, while Brendon had super-speed, though B didn't do patrol every night because maintaining his speed for large stretches of time left him drained.

Josh nodded and looked down at the ground, chewing on his lip. The toaster chose that moment to make a loud _ding_!, causing him to flinch in surprise. Dallon looked at Josh with an expression that said, " _you're definitely not fine and you better tell somebody what the fuck is up."_ Josh didn't know how Dallon conveyed all of that with just one look, but, well, he wasn't going to question it. Or tell him what was going on.

He chose to ignore Dallon's look of suspicion, and pulled the waffles out of the toaster. Josh poured himself a cup of coffee, fixing it up the way he liked.

"You want some?" Josh asked, looking back at Dallon.

"Nah. I'll make a cup for B when he wakes up."

Josh nodded and left the kitchen, heading for his room.

———

Coffee was definitely a mistake.

Josh realized this about forty-five minutes later, when he was sitting in his bed, trembling. A cold sweat dripped down his forehead; he rubbed at it. He should have known that caffeine would only make his anxiety worse.

With jerky motions, he went over to the windowsill and popped one of his anxiety pills. His hands were shaking, and he almost dropped the bottle. Blowing out a breath, he put it down and left his room. Big as it was, it was getting way too cramped in there for his taste.

He made his way to his favorite room in the house (mansion, really. The place was huge). Josh opened the door to the spacious studio, noticing that Patrick was already in there. The guy spent practically all his waking hours in here, now that he had started working on an album. It was only in the first stages, though. Patrick only had a few songs written, but from what Josh had seen, it was already amazing.

Patrick was sitting at the piano, looking at a sheet of paper and flitting his hands indecisively across the keys. He looked up when Josh entered, giving him a loose smile before concentrating once again on the song he was working on. Josh sighed in relief—Patrick was in a good mood, so he wouldn't be bothered by Josh banging away on his drums. Well, he might be a little annoyed, but at least he wouldn't start screaming and physically shove Josh out so he could concentrate on his music. Patrick always apologized later, but at least it didn't happen often. Only when he was stumped (pun completely intended) about where to go next with one of his songs.

Shaking himself out of his thoughts, Josh twisted the doorknob to the drum studio. Thankfully, the room was as soundproofed as possible. It didn't block out all sounds, but it was better than nothing. Josh grabbed his sticks and plopped down on the seat, already tapping out an experimental rhythm. He could feel his anxiety slowly seeping out of him, and he channeled his nervous energy into his playing. The beats steadily became heavier and more eccentric until Josh's arms were blurred in their frantic speed. He put all of his worries and frustration and emotion into his playing. There wasn't a specific beat that he was following, but it somehow still made perfect sense to him. Josh kept this erratic cacophony going for several minutes, but soon his arms began to grow tired. He slowed the beat down until it was silent in the studio.

Well, silent except for his heavy breaths. Josh rubbed the sweat from his forehead, relieved to find that his hands were no longer shaking from anxiety. There was a water bottle nearby, and Josh grabbed it. Fortunately, it was still sealed, so he wasn't drinking from somebody else's water. Without knowing whose it was, that would be kinda gross. He took a long swig, draining about half of the bottle.

Once he caught his breath, Josh resumed his drumming, this time maintaining a steady, tame beat and never quite reaching the volume and intensity he had before.

He kept drumming for a couple hours, stopping only to take brief breaks for water. Josh finally realized it was time to stop when his arms started to feel like noodles from exhaustion. If he kept going, he would either hurt himself or be too tired to go on patrol tonight. Or both.

With a tired sigh, he put the worn drumsticks back in their pouch and left the drum studio, sipping water. He passed Patrick on his way out. He had some sheets of paper scattered around him, and was scribbling on one. Pete was lounging in the chair next to him, looking over one of the sheets and absently chewing on one of his nails. He looked up as Josh passed, nodding once in greeting. Josh returned the nod, and lazily made his way to the living room.

Dallon and Brendon were nowhere to be seen, but that was typical for both of them. Especially Dallon.

Josh hopped over the side of the giant couch, flopping down in the middle of it. He grabbed the remote and switched the TV on, flicking through channels in an attempt to pass the time. After spending twenty minutes and finding nothing, Josh let his arm fall back to the cushion in defeat. He turned over on his stomach, planning to just lay there for a couple hours. Maybe he could think of a way to get out of whatever the hell the King was planning.

Heh. That was funny. Josh wasn't much of a plan-beforehand type of guy. He liked to jump into things and figure it out as he went, which, admittedly, was dangerous and foolish. But no matter how much he tried to fix that, planning wasn't and would never be his forte.

Josh rested his head on his hands, scratching absently at his neck. He supposed he would just have to handle this the way he handled everything. Without a plan. Because obviously, his current situation was a bit too complicated to solve without help. And of course, Josh couldn't get help with this. If he did, his friends would die, and _wouldn't that be lovely_.

Sighing, he let his head fall to the side and he stared at the cushions. The only solutions he could think of was either... die before the King could get to him, or keep moving until he either outran the King or was caught. Neither were very appealing.

As he lay on the couch, thinking, his eyelids fluttered closed and his breathing slowed. Despite his anxiety-riddled mind, he fell into a light, restless sleep.

———

Josh only grew more nervous as the minutes ticked by. He _really_ didn't want to do patrol tonight, but he couldn't make Brendon do an extra night. After all, Josh knew what is was like to overuse his powers and completely drain himself of energy. It was _not_ fun, and he definitely didn't want Brendon to experience that.

He checked over his gun for the umpteenth time, making sure the safety was on and he had enough ammo. Tonight, even though he was pretty much scared to death, Josh wasn't going to hesitate to use his gun if the King showed up. He also had two sharp blades tucked securely into their sheaths on his thighs, just in case.

Glancing at his phone, he noticed grimly that it was time to head out. Grimacing, Josh slid his phone into a pocket and stood up from his bed. He didn't bother taking an anxiety pill. It would only dull his senses.

With a resigned sigh, Josh slid the door to the balcony open. He stepped out and pushed it shut behind him, his fingers tapping out an erratic rhythm on his thigh. Josh dragged himself over to the ledge, hoisting himself over and shifting into a raven. Flapping his wings, he entered the woods and left the lights of Pete's mansion behind him.

Josh stayed rather low to the ground, just in case the King decided to show up and pull another nasty trick on him like last time.

The forest seemed silent and heavy, similar to how it was a couple nights ago. Maybe Josh was just being paranoid and his mind was playing tricks on him, but... he couldn't be too careful.

He flew as close to the trees as he dared, weaving through branches with his wing tips grazing the thick trunks. He hesitated briefly before darting out to the next tree, scanning the immediate area for threats.

This careful, stop-check-go method lasted for a little while. Long enough for Josh to get sick of the slower pace and abandon it for a more efficient, faster one.

Naturally, he saw the force field too late. A faint blue shimmer appeared in front of him, and though he frantically flapped his wings in an attempt to stop, it was useless. He crashed face first into the force field, too surprised to even shift back to human. Stunned, he fell to the ground, subconsciously flapping his wings at a slow, random pace. He shifted back to human just as he slammed into the ground, dread and panic filling his mind. Josh vaguely registered the blood dripping down from his nose.

Though his skull was aching, he scrambled to his feet and pulled out his gun, clicking the safety off and holding it up.

"What the hell do you want?" Josh demanded, his voice cloudy from his seemingly broken nose. Shit, that would be impossible to cover up later.

Deep chuckles came from somewhere to Josh's left. He whipped around, ignoring the fresh wave of pain that went through his head.

"Honestly, Joshua. You should know by now that that little toy of yours is useless against me." The King appeared before Josh, and flicked his wrist. Josh's gun flew out of his hand, disappearing somewhere into the forest.

Josh flexed his fingers, his breaths shallow. Blood continued to drip down his face, some of it getting into his mouth. He grimaced slightly at the metallic taste.

The King drifted closer to Josh. He flinched, prepared to flee if he needed to. Which, it looked like he would have to.

"Hm. Joshua, do your little friends have no manners? It is rather curious that they believe it is acceptable to _listen in on others' conversations."_

The King said the last part a bit louder, the edge in his voice razor sharp. Josh's breathing caught in his throat. _Fuck_ , who followed him?

Out of the corner of his eye, Josh saw the King bring his arm forward, a faint blue glow emanating from his hand.

Without thinking, Josh lunged at the King, yanking one of his knives out of its sheath. He tackled the creature, forcing it to the ground. Josh used the momentum to drive the blade into where the King's throat should be.

But the knife dug into the ground. Josh whipped his head up, staring at the imposing figure standing above him.

"Odd. It seems that you are an utter imbecile, Joshua. But that opposes every bit of information my sources have given me," the King sneered. " _Oh_ , and I sure do hope that you have remembered our little agreement regarding your silly friends..." His voice was dripping with poisonous mirth.

Of course Josh hadn't forgotten. How the hell could he forget a threat like that?

"I didn't fucking tell anybody. Leave whoever it is the fuck alone and go back to wherever the fuck you came from." Josh didn't know where this newfound courage came from, but he wasn't complaining. "And I hope you didn't forget _your_ side of the deal, asshat. You said you'd give me the whole month. It's been _three fucking days._ Did you miss me that much?" He spat out the words, getting to his feet and clenching his fists.

Something red sparked beneath the King's hood, and then Josh was flung through the air and against a force field.

" _I believe you are not aware of who exactly you are speaking to, Joshua,"_ the King snarled, the red glow under his hood growing stronger. His voice had changed, sounding as if an entire group of people were all talking at the same time.

_"I can make your life hell without trying. I will be the bane of your worthless existence if you are not compliant. I will tear apart every last shred of your happiness and hope until you are nothing but a shell that is fit for my use."_

"Kinky," Josh muttered. It was the only response his panic-stricken mind could come up with.

The forces pinning Josh to the force field released him, and he slumped to the ground. He watched fearfully as the King stalked over to him.

"You, Joshua, are insufferable. I was perfectly willing to give you a month to make your choice and prepare yourself. I was being _merciful_! Enough is enough, Joshua. I have a kingdom to protect. We do not have time for your useless meddling. You will be coming with me tonight, whether you like it or not."

"You know, you remind me a lot of a toddler throwing a temper tantrum." _Dammit_ , why couldn't he learn to shut the hell up?

The King growled and raised his hand. Josh watched as he gave it a sharp twist, and then he crumpled to his knees as white hot agony ripped through his body. It felt as if every ounce of his being was trying to tear itself off of his body, as if he was being burned from the inside out. He heard desperate screams, not even registering that they were coming from his own throat.

The pain left as soon as it began. Josh collapsed against the mossy ground, panting. He was surprised to see that his body was still intact. He had thought that there would at least be some sort of damage, what with the amount of pain he had just experienced.

"Get up. You will not talk back to me ever again. You are coming with me. If you try to escape or be an imbecile again..." the King raised his hand again, and Josh flinched. "You know the consequences."

Josh's mind was still reeling. His muscles felt like putty, but out of fear he managed to pull himself to his feet. Almost immediately, though, his knees gave out from under him. He heard a disgusted scoff from above him.

"Weakling. We don't have time for this."

Josh heard a snap of fingers, and felt himself collapse. He didn't notice when reality warped around him, trees and moonlight twisting together and fading into black. He didn't notice the feeling of his own body dissolving into the empty blackness.

He didn't notice anything, because he was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey. I'm not sure how regular updates are going to be for this. I forced myself to speed the plot up in this chapter because I CAN NOT WRITE SLOW PACED THINGS how do ppl do that srsly  
> my writing style probably changed over however long it's been since i last updated. (it feels different to me idk. maybe it hasnt. i cant tell)  
> sorry if this is too fast paced and sudden. and what exactly happened there at the end is going to remain unexplained until the next chapter (possibly).  
> anyway.  
> feedback/kudos are appreciated (i honestly started writing this again because i read some of the comments on earlier chapters. thank u everyone that commented. you all are the best and i love you)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new POV is introduced.

**?????**

He stared at the wall, the same way he had been doing for months. Or years, maybe. He didn't really know how long, and had honestly given up on counting.

It might have been nighttime, it could have been three in the afternoon for all he knew. There were no windows in the room, the only source of light being the long, ugly fluorescent bulbs on the ceiling. The room also lacked a clock, giving him no way to measure time besides counting in his head. And hell, counting in his head was only somewhat entertaining for about thirty seconds before it got old and tiring. It was too much effort, too much concentration, to keep up the mantra of numbers in his head. He preferred to spend his days (weeks? months?) in a hazy, practically comatose state.

He didn't really have to try to concentrate on anything anymore. Nothing new and exciting ever happened in his life. The only thing that he somewhat (read: didn't actually) looked forward to was getting a new notebook, but that didn't happen all that often.

There weren't even people coming into the rooms next to his. He assumed they all died, or were integrated into the King's army.

The corner of his mouth twitches in slight amusement at the thought of the King's army. He remembered the reaction when they realized he wasn't "fit" to join. Apparently, from what he caught while laying on the lab table, his other side was too strong for their procedure to take place. In other words, they couldn't make him into a puppet that would bend to their every whim.

God, the pure rage on the King's face... He could never forget it. He was apparently supposed to be their strongest soldier, what with his other side being, more or less, his mentor. There were even plans for him to become the commander (or was it general? Hell if he knew military lingo) of the army.

The corner of his mouth twitched again. That was back during the good old days. he hadn't viewed them as good while he was experiencing them, but he would take them over endless monotony. That was before the King covered up his face with that dreadful hood and lost all compassion and morals. Before the experiments went wrong. Before he himself became nothing more than a failed experiment, a waste of space and effort.

He didn't even know why they still kept him alive. All he did was sit, eat, and scribble half-formed lyrics in the notebooks. Most of the time, his other side was in control. He just didn't have the energy or motivation to take back his own body. There wasn't a point anyway. So, he just let his other side yank fruitlessly at the shackles around his wrists and hurl threats at anything that moved. These days, his other side's target was always him. There was nobody else, after all. They had learned to keep people as far away from him as possible, after his other side got a bit too violent a few too many times. After a while, the people living next to him always became too scared to be useful variables in experiments.

At first, having nobody to talk to was lonely. But he got over it. There was nothing he could do about it, after all. Not even hope that somebody would come and change things up.

Hope. He didn't remember what it was like to be hopeful. He could barely remember the last time he had hope. It didn't matter anyway.

 _Neither do you_ , his other side snarled, making itself known.

_Nice to see you too. Got tired of yelling at the walls?_

He wasn't afraid of his other side anymore. He used to be. It, and what it could _do_ , used to be his biggest fear. As a rule, he never harmed anything, didn't even swat flies. But once his other side changed... He didn't remember much of what happened when his other side first changed. Just fear, and the fact that his mind and body did not react well with the sudden shift. It was almost like his other side had more substance than just being the voice in his head. And, of course, controlling his body.

He didn't really like thinking about _then_. What was the point in dwelling in the past? What had happened had happened, nothing could change that.

Sighing, he glanced around his headspace. When his other side took control, he was forced to the back of his mind, to a place that was probably even more bland than the room his physical body was in. The only thing around him was gray, and if he looked a certain way and squinted, he could see it fade into a black void. Straight ahead of him, there was a screen of sorts, where he could see what his other side was seeing. Right now, he could see his hands fiddling with the chains on the shackles, scratching at one of the links.

 _You're not going to escape from here. Quit already,_ he complained. When he was in his headspace, he didn't have to speak out loud; he just had to think to communicate.

As usual, it didn't respond.

His other side did this every single day; scratching at a certain link in the chains, trying to somehow break through it. He didn't think that would even be possible, to scratch through metal with nothing more than a fingernail. If it was, it would take way longer than it was worth. Besides, what would he even do if he escaped the shackles? Leave and get caught immediately? No, it wasn't worth the punishment.

He looked up slightly when he heard voices outside. It had been a long time since he'd heard other people talking; if people were outside now, something big was happening.

Maybe they were finally coming to execute him. Had they finally come to their senses and realized what a drain of resources he was?

His thoughts were halted when he saw the lights snap on in the room next to his. He stared through the bars of the tiny window next to his cot, trying to figure out what was going on. Were they bringing somebody in? No, they couldn't be. He thought that they'd refused to bring anybody near him?

"Why must we put it here? Don't they know what is next to him?" A voice, clearer this time, broke through his thoughts.

"Idiot. Don't you pay attention at all? This is the only room left in the damn place. This is the last time I'm telling you, stupid ass." This voice was nasally and angered.

He heard the squeak of wheels on tile, and a shiny stretcher came into view. Not much was visible, but he saw somebody laying on it, wearing what looked like some sort of dark spandex.

Oh. Probably another one of those 'holier-than-thou' ones, that believed they were doing the world a favor by acting like superheroes. He sighed again.

"Help me move it," said the nasally voice, this time closer.

He heard the shuffling of fabric, a limp body moving towards the window, and then nothing.

"Damn, that fucker's heavy," the first voice grumbled.

The nasally one mumbled its agreement. He heard footsteps, then the wheels again. The door of the room next to his slid open, then shut with a hiss. Then silence. Nothing but his own—well, his other side's—breathing.

 _Hmph. A new plaything,_ his other side thought, to nobody in particular.

For the third time, he blew out a tired sigh. He wondered how long it would take them this time to remove the new person.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you probably know by now, I'm extremely terrible when it comes to updating on a regular schedule. Sorry about that. I'm not one of those authors that can just sit down and produce a chapter just like that. I used to be (back when my writing was shit and i was like 12 years old. Hah.) anyway! Comments and kudos are appreciated!  
> If you wanna chat me up on the tumble, it's http://thedeathofabachelor.tumblr.com/ sorry abt my awful theme i cant do my own html.  
> when did this go from perfect grammar and capitalization to whatever im doing now? idk. i should probably go to bed oops  
> also this chapter is a bit short and i apologize for that, i just dont want to jump from one character's POV to another's, u get my drift???


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I actually wrote an entire chapter in less than two weeks.

**Josh**

Slowly, like sand trickling into an hourglass, he regained consciousness. He felt groggy, and didn't bother opening his eyes or moving at all. He was rather comfortable, if a bit cold. Hm. That was odd. His bed was never cold.

Oh well. He didn't feel like investigating; he would just lay here until he felt like getting up. A little cold never killed anybody.

Somebody was singing,  so quiet he barely heard it. Probably Brendon. Brendon almost always sang in the morning, especially when he was making breakfast. Only, Brendon was always mind-numbingly loud. And didn't have the lilting, haunting voice this person had. Brendon also was more bold and brassy, even when he was singing gently. Maybe Patrick? ...no, Patrick's voice was stronger. It also wasn't Dallon; though his voice was soft as well, it had a certain edge to it that this voice didn't have.

Then whose voice was it? Josh listened closer, trying to pick out the words, which were sang slowly with a long pause between each.

"My... name's... Blurryface... and... I... care... what... you... think..."

What the hell? Nobody he knew would sing something like that. What the hell was a Blurryface?

...Where was he?

It all  suddenly came crashing back to him; going out on patrol last night, fighting the King. His eyes flew open and he gasped in a terrified breath, bolting upwards. He yanked his arms up, only to find that his wrists were restrained by thick, faintly glowing shackles. His throat closed up, and he tugged harder, to no avail. Whipping his head around, he searched desperately for a way to escape. The only thing around him was white. The... cell? he was in was completely empty, save for the cot he was laying on.

Maybe he could flip the cot over? Still panicking, Josh thrust his body around desperately, trying to get the cot to fall over so he could get his feet under him. Only, the flimsy cot refused to budge. Bending as much as his body allowed him to, he peered over the edge and saw that it was bolted to the ground. Of fucking course. The cot was impossible to move.

Flopping back down, Josh blew out a shaking breath, trying to quell the rising panic. He could still shift. The situation wasn't entirely hopeless. He just needed to calm down a little bit; trying to shift in the middle of a panic attack always ended up painfully. Breathing deeper, Josh felt his heart rate slow a bit. That was better.

He briefly thought over what he could shift to. What would be the best for escaping? He didn't really know; sure, he could be literally any animal he wanted, including mythological creatures, but that didn't mean he researched them. That would take way too much time; besides, he had much better things to do. Like... sleep. And play the drums. And bother Brendon.

God, he wondered what the others were doing right now. They all definitely had to be worried; even Dallon, who acted like he didn't care about anything but Brendon and his bass.

Wait. Didn't the King mention that somebody was watching them last night? _Fuck_. Josh felt his chest get cold with fear. No, no, no... That was bad. That was very bad. He could only hope that the King hadn't killed whoever it was already. Fuck, he'd really fucked up this time. He tried again to calm himself down, taking deeper breaths. They were still fast, and only served to make him start to hyperventilate.

"Boy, you sure are a mess."

Josh flinched at the low, rough voice, snapping his head towards the source. He almost screamed at the sight he was greeted with.

Glowing red eyes glared at him through thick metal bars, glinting dangerously. The person next to him—literally, less than a foot away from his face, it was extremely creepy—was grinning, unnaturally sharp canines bared in what looked more like a snarl than a smile. A murky, black substance covered what was visible of his neck, small fingers of smoky matter curling up over his chin and jaw before settling back down.

Josh recoiled. "Who the f-fuck are you?" He snapped, his voice shaking from fear.

The person's eyes flickered. "Your worst nightmare."

Well, that was cliché. Josh's eyebrows pushed together, giving him a skeptical look.

"Uh, you sure about that, buddy? I'm pretty sure you don't look like a bunch of defenseless kittens dying." There goes his mouth again, being sarcastic and snarky when he _really_ _didn't want to be sarcastic and snarky._

The person growled, his face twitching. "You have no idea who I am. What I'm capable of."

"Ooh, tell me more! I'm just _so_ interested, it's not like I've heard this spiel a hundred times!" He plastered a look of innocence on his face, deciding to fuck with this person just because he felt like it. It was better than having a panic attack.

His features darkened, and he seemed to be at a loss for words. Confusion washed over his face.

"Bet you've never been talked back to, hmm? Wow, you're gonna love being next to me for who knows how long!" Wow, Josh really was good at making his voice drip with sarcasm.

The person's whole body was twitching now, from what Josh could tell from his view through the tiny window. But, the frustrated expression was gone from his face. Instead, there was one of mild annoyance, one someone might get because a mosquito was droning on near their ears.

Josh heard the rattling of shackles, and watched in confusion as the black substance began to fade and the red glow of his eyes flickered and dimmed. With a noise of protest from the person, his eyes faded to a deep shade of brown and the inky black substance was gone from his neck; not a trace of it remained.

Without the evil-looking getup, the guy was actually kinda cute. _Dammit, gay thoughts, now is not the time._

"I apologize for Blurry. He can be rude. I am Tyler," the guy said, watching Josh carefully. His voice was a bit higher now, but it was gentle and quiet. It almost sounded shy, like the guy wasn't used to meeting new people. Well, he probably wasn't. Who knew how long he had been in here before Josh arrived.

Josh looked at him with confusion, and a little fear. "Um... I'm Josh."

Tyler nodded. "I'm guessing you have a lot of questions."

"Uh, y-yeah, I guess." Josh stuttered sometimes when he was recovering from a panic attack, or had come close to one. Which, he had come close to, like, three so far. "Uh, where... are we?"

Tyler laughed once, no amusement in his features. "Good question. I have no damn idea. We could be in hell right now for all I know."

Josh swallowed. This guy seemed like an asshole. "Why am I here? Why are... you here?" He already knew the answer to the first one, but he wanted to hear Tyler's response.

"King probably thinks you'll be useful for his little army. That's what he thought about me. Now I'm stuck in this boring hellhole for all eternity."

He isn't sure what else he expected.

He might as well try shifting now. He decided to just go with his usual patrol form, and willed his body to change.

Only, nothing happened. He didn't shrink, feathers didn't sprout from his skin. He was still human. Maybe he was still too panicky? Taking a few more deep breaths, Josh calmed himself down more and tried again. Still no luck.

"What the fuck?!" He exclaimed, fear making his voice rise. "Why can't I..."

Again, he felt himself panic. The attack came on too sudden for him to fend it off, and he could only lay there, defenseless, as his fear and shock took over his body. His heart pounded wildly, his breaths coming in shallow gasps that became shorter each time he took one in. He squeezed his eyes shut and whimpered as his vision began to go fuzzy. His hands twitched, the fingers tensing and curling in and out sporadically. Josh didn't dare open his eyes, which were starting to water as the attack only got worse. He didn't know what he would see this time. Visions of his friends dying? His whole world crashing down around him? There was no telling what his terrified mind would cook up for him.

His teeth chattered, his jaw trembling uncontrollably. He could just hear the beginning whispers of the... _hallucinations_ , and his face twitched into a grimace as he squeezed his eyes shut even tighter. Tears were beginning to leak out of them, traveling down the sides of his face and into his hair.

_"Why didn't you save me, Josh?"_ It was the high voice of his little brother, still as young and pure as the night he... No. He couldn't go down that path right now.

He heard steps, light enough to be a young boy's. _"I said,"_ the boy snarled, right next to Josh's ear. Josh felt hands grip his jaw and shake it, rough and violent. _"Why didn't you save me?!"_ The boy screamed, every ounce of purity and youth in his voice replaced with hatred and malice.

_It's not real it's not real it's not real it's not!_ Josh repeated the mantra in his head, getting louder with each word. He kept his eyes shut, not wanting to see the mangled body of his younger sibling.

Something struck his face, making him cry out in pain.

_"God, Josh, I knew I couldn't trust you."_   Well. This was new. The team was never in his... hallucinations. He hated calling them that.

He didn't let his shock get to him, and kept his eyes closed. Even when he heard the all-too familiar _whoosh_ of Dallon's teleporting.

_"You're not one of us. You can't even save your own friends. You got me killed!"_ The taller man's voice boomed in Josh's ear, and he felt hands grip around his throat again. These were larger, with long fingers and rough callouses.

"No, no no, _no_ , n-no," he whimpered, tears pouring down his face. He pulled on his restraints, thrashing as he tried to escape his own mind's terrors. Josh tried desperately to curl in on himself, twisting his body and yanking on the shackles around his ankles and wrists.

"Josh." This voice wasn't hissing at him. It seemed more solid. Desperately, he latched on to it, not even knowing who it was. He turned towards the speaker, twisting his body towards them.

"K-keep t-talk-king," he managed through his frantic, uncontrollable gasps. He was hyperventilating as the worst of the attack started to fade, his fright finally getting to him.

There was a moment of silence from the speaker, before the words began again.

"I used to dream about starting a band. Back when my life wasn't spent in this shithole. I probably could've done it, you know. I had lyrics and a couple instruments. And I had hope. That was the one thing that kept me going each day. Now, this place, they just suck all the hope right out of you. But, let's not focus on the present."

Josh's heart rate slowed gradually as he listened to the person speak. As his mind began to return to its usual state, he remembered. It was Tyler talking to him. That was weird. He seemed like such an asshole before.

"I-I think I'm g-good now," Josh said, opening his eyes and blinking rapidly to get the last of the tears out.

"Good. That was more violent than I expected." Oh, there was the asshole attitude again.

"W-what, does everybody that comes here have a panic attack after waking up?" Josh questioned sarcastically, relieved to hear that his stuttering was starting to fade as the last of the panic drained from his body.

"Not that soon. But you are an especially curious case, Josh. Most panic attacks—in my experience—are rather quick and not all that interesting. I've never had to help somebody pull themselves together. Why are you so different?" Tyler looked at Josh for the first time since his other side—Blurry?—had faded.

Josh swallowed and looked away, curling in on himself as much as he could.

"So, you know how our kind has mental repercussions based on our power level, to sorta, balance it out I guess." It was more of a statement than a question. Of course Tyler knew. "Well, um, I guess I'm more powerful than most? So, naturally I get severe anxiety. A-and..." He didn't want to tell this part; not even the group knew this much, but Tyler was looking at him expectantly. Josh gulped. "When I have panic attacks, I get... hallucinations. They're bad." He was mumbling by the end, his eyes downcast.

Tyler didn't respond.

"Uh, why can't I use my powers?"

"Magic shackles. They block your powers. They only use them on the ones that pose a potential threat." Tyler's voice was flat, sounding almost robotic.

Josh cursed. Of course. He was trapped here.

Quick beeping snapped his attention towards what looked to be a door. A red light was blinking in time with the beeps, and then the door slid open. A woman in a long, crisp lab coat walked through, followed by five others also in lab coats. They wheeled a gurney in, and he noted with a hint of panic that it had the same glowing restraints that were on his cot.

"What..." His words died in his throat as the woman walked closer, revealing a long syringe held carefully in her hands. It was filled with a clear liquid.

His eyes flickered up to her face, searching the tight, immaculate skin for _something_. He didn't know what, but he felt like he had to find some hint of human emotion in her face. There was nothing, just cold and calculating eyes staring at him.

"Have fun, Joshie," Tyler said, fake cheer in his voice. But other than that, there was no emotion.

Josh opened his mouth to voice his confusion, but was cut off by the woman.

"You are coming with me." She stepped closer and crouched, searching for something for a brief moment, then jabbing the needle into Josh's neck.

He let out a strangled noise of shock and pain. The woman pressed down on the plunger, injecting whatever it was into his veins. Josh hissed as he felt the liquid travel through his veins.

Josh tried to speak again, but found that he couldn't move his mouth. In fact, he couldn't move anything. Not even his eyes; he could just stare up at the ceiling as he felt people undo his restraints and  lift him onto the gurney. He felt the shackles snap around his wrists and ankles, and then the gurney was moving. He couldn't even try to take note of the turns they were taking; all he could see was the plain white ceiling and fluorescent hospital lighting.

After what seemed like forever, they wheeled him into a room. It was dimmer than what he guessed was the hallway, and all he could see from the corners of his eyes were cabinets and regular hospital machines. The people that had brought him in were bustling around, and he winced internally as he felt more needles enter his skin. I.V. fluid maybe? What would they need the I.V. for?

Josh's unspoken question was left unanswered as he could suddenly move again. He swiveled his head around, trying to take in every inch of the room he was in. There was almost nothing interesting. It looked sort of like a normal doctor's office, except for the hulking machine in the corner. It was covered by a cloth, and looked out of place.

"Hello, Joshua." He felt chills run up his spine as he snapped his head towards the source of the voice. It was standing near the end of the gurney.

His throat went dry as he looked at the all-too-familiar black robes and giant hood.

It was the King.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've never actually written a panic attack before, so like. hope this isn't too far fetched and weird yanno. Finally, we're getting into the actual plot of the hecking story wow.  
> Since i don't really have anything else to write here at the moment:  
> My tumblr is http://thedeathofabachelor.tumblr.com if you want to chat me up or something im always down to talk with people.  
> Comments and kudos are appreciated! (they're like half the reason this story keeps getting written. u guys are all too nice)


	6. HEY NOT A CHAPTER BUT PLS READ

ALRIGHT HEY SO! this particular fic is abandoned. i will no longer update it.  
BUT!!!!!  
if u head over to the series this is attached to, you'll find a NEW version of it!! CURRENTLY IN PROGRESS!! and some stuff attached to the AU

IN MUCH BETTER WRITING THAN THIS SHIT!  
SO LIKE IF YOU WERE CURIOUS ABOUT IF IM DEAD OR NOT. IM NOT. JUST A PIECE OF SHIT WHO CANT KEEP UP WITH FICS. OKAY BYE PLEASE READ THE OTHER WORKS IN THE SERIES THANK YOU


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